


Fetch quest

by Spare_Sidekick



Category: Deadpool - Fandom, Marvel, Spiderman - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spare_Sidekick/pseuds/Spare_Sidekick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in the near fututre, where villains have all but won, The merc with a mouth teams up with the Spectacular Spiderman to make a very simple extraction very complex</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fetch quest

“Wade,” Peter said, eyebrow raised. “What are we doing again?”

  
Wade paused to look at Mr Parker. He was exactly as he always imagined him to be: lean, muscled, with a delicious mop of tousled brown hair and hazel eyes. And he was cross.

  
Okay, maybe he didn’t always imagine him cross.

  
“I thought we’d been over the plan,” Wade replied. “Break into this abandoned Ozcorp facility. Plumb its depths [Hehe…You said ‘plumb’], retrieve the package [Hehe…'package’]…” He held up a plastic shopping bag emblazoned with the Ozcorp plastic division’s logo. “...and sneak out before the guards see us.”

  
“I think you’ll find that conversation happened completely inside your head, Wade.”

  
“Call me Deadpool while I’m in the mask, Spider-man!”

  
“Don’t call me Spider-man when I’m not in the mask.”

  
“Oh, yeah...” Wade paused. “Why aren’t you in costume, again?”

  
Peter folded his arms and raised a jaunty eyebrow. “You mean, ‘Why are you in your underwear?’”

  
“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

  
Peter sighed. “I know what the plan was, Wade-err, Deadpool. I really am more concerned with that thing.” Peter gestured at the cheap ceramic urn under Deadpools’ arm.

  
“Oh. A little personal fetch quest. No one will miss this.”

 

  
The hallway filled, on cue it seemed, with the cacophony of blazing klaxons and the lights switched to crimson.

  
“Ahhhhh,” said Wade. “I KNOW THIS SONG!”

[No you don’t. It’s the alarm, you idiot]

  
“Goddammit, Wade,” Peter cried. “It’s the alarm, you idiot!”

  
“Hey, that’s what he said,” replied Wade as the pair broke off into a sprint.

  
“Who said?” Peter asked, dashing across the walls

  
“The yellow text boxes… Oh, no, it’s italics in this.”

  
“Wha?”

  
[I’m in italics now? When did that happen?]

  
“And Brackets too!”

  
“In the name of Bea Arthur, Wade, you’re talking to yourself again.”

  
“What can I say,” Deadpool said, fishing a grenade out of his pants. “I may be crazy, but I’m never lonely.

  
The resulting explosion drowned out any reply Peter may have made.

***

The ringing stopped at some point, soon after the dust had settled. Great sections of the corridor had come down and sealed off the area from the rest of the Ozcorp facility.

  
“What,” murmured Peter, shaking off the dust, “was in that thing?”

  
“Oh.” Wade coughed “That… That was just something my buddy Weasel cooked up.”

  
Peter just looked at him.

  
“Wade, Weasel’s been dead for the last six years.”

  
Wade tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. A soft slurping sound emanated from his chest where metal fragments were being slowly pushed out. Elsewhere, he was dimly aware of his bones reknitting, his spleen reforming inside his pulped torso.

  
“Weasel’s… dead?”

  
[Yeah, dude. Bummer. It was Doom, remember.]

  
Peter nodded. Doom detonated the bomb in New York. It killed the Fantastic Four. Well, except for Ben.

  
“And the googly wave fucked up New York pretty bad.”

  
Peter smiled a sad little smile. He pushed some of Wades sagging flesh into position to re-heal properly, as if there were even a definition for ‘properly’. “Yeah, the Fantastic Four had a lot of weird shit in there. Turns out there were containment fields for a reason. New York got washed in a shard of the negative zone. It… wasn’t pretty.”

  
“Your Aunt was in there at the time, right?”

  
Peter gave a look, filled with a hollow emptiness. His lips pursed but there were no tears.

  
[Aww. You done goofed, Mr Wilson.]

 

"Pete....I'm sorry..."

  
Peter turned away. “We should get out of here. And you need to stop talking to yourself.”

***

The elevator door had very intricate security. Wade first applied his technical talents to the control panel and then, after 30,000 volts and some regenerated flesh, he resorted to hacking at the panel with his sword.

  
“I… Could Use… The Proportionate… Strength… Of… A Spider… Right About… Now…” he grunted between hits.

  
“You seem to be ‘hacking’ that panel just fine.”

  
[Awwww snap!]

  
“HEY!” Wade turned to a languid Peter. “I’m the funny one in this fic.”

  
“Fic?”

 

  
“You know what I mean.”

  
“I kinda don’t.”

  
“Well, if you’re gonna steal the best puns, you could at least… Help… With… The Doors.”

  
“Um, okay.” Peter snapped his fingers once and pointed to the emergency lighting. Wade looked up as the elevator light read ‘-13.’

  
“What floor are we on again?”

  
[Negative thirteen, dumbass.]

  
“Negative thirteen, Wade.”

  
The doors opened and a small squad of bewildered Ozcorp security guards filled the hallway.

  
“Good thing I have my swords out already then, huh.”

***

“I am so glad that guard had a passkey for the elevator. See Petey-Boy, I knew I had this.”

  
“Wade…”

  
“DEADPOOL!”

 

“Deadpool. You threatened to pull his dick out through his foot.”

  
“I still left him alive. Ish.”

  
“And I’m supposed to be grateful you only maimed those guys?”

  
“Actually, yes, gratitude would be nice after all I’ve done for you.”

  
Peter paused. Wade had dropped his flippant demeanor, as if a nerve had been clipped. Wade adjusted his shoulders, allowing spent rounds to slide around in his lungs. He pulled his mask off and coughed up the bloody shells.

  
“Damn. Did he fire all six rounds or only five?” He counted out the gory projectiles. “Do… I… Feel… Lucky… Punk.”

  
[That’s seven.]

  
“Seven?”

  
“It’s five, Wade. You took five in the back shielding me, which you should have realized was stupid.” Peter paused. “But I guess you didn’t. Realize, that is.”

  
Another pause. “Look, I am… grateful. For what you did. What you are doing. It means the world to me.”

Peter knelt beside Wade and put a hand on his shoulder. “It really does.”

  
Wade made eye contact. It was one of those rare moments he could count on one hand-- [Wait… Am I still regrowing a hand?] --a moment when someone could meet his unmasked gaze without flinching.  
But Peter had always been like that. Because Peter was a hero. A good guy. A great guy.

  
[So… You gonna kiss him now, or what?]

  
Peter made the first move, leaning in and kissing Deadpool’s lips.

  
“No,” Wade muttered weakly. “We can’t do this… My mask…” His fingers clenched the bloody fabric in his hand.

  
“Shhh. This is something we can do without masks.”

  
They fell onto each other as the elevator slowly counted upwards. Costumes and clothing were tossed aside as the pair violated the comics code to a dreadful Tom Jones cover. Wade relented at first, let spider-strength prevail as their mouths not so much kissed but bruised as they made out against the mirrored elevator wall.

  
“Wade... I can’t tell which one of us needs this more,” Peter gasped between kisses and reached between Wade’s legs.

  
Wade sighed, pushing gently down on Peter’s shoulders, and was soon rewarded by the feel of Peters mouth around his cock; of hands capable of clinging to steel walls clenching his ass, kneading as Wade thrust with increasing fervor.

  
“Steady, Petey,” he gasped, as he fumbled for his katana. “You aren’t the only one who can project a sticky fluid.”

  
[You know he uses web shooters for that.]

  
“Ah uush eebb ghooterz fur dat,” choked Peter.

  
“What was that?” Climax threatened from within the root of his cock.

  
“Ahhh shedd…” Peter began, but he was interrupted by Wade’s come filling his mouth and surging down his throat. To his credit Peter held on, and caught the secondary spray as Wade’s hips convulsed.  
And the weaker, third.

  
Wade collapsed onto the elevator floor. Seconds later Peter joined him, curling his body and placing his head on Wade’s chest.

  
“We should do this more often, Petey.”

  
“You mean, go on more secret missions?”

  
“That too.” Wade grinned.

  
Peter turned his head and looked at him, a certain bitterness creeping into his eyes. “You know that’s unlikely, Wade,” he said. His hand reached out, caressing Wade’s mangled jaw.  
Wade furrowed his brow. “But… that was totally awesome, man.”

  
[Totally, man.]

  
“Totally awesome, Wade.” A sad little smile crossed his lips and eyes. “But… You need to say goodbye.” Peter’s hand reached out for the urn, pushing it into Wade’s grasp. “And you need to stop talking to yourself.”

  
The elevator doors opened.

  
And Wade was alone.

***

Ben Grim sat angrily in the dark. Deadpool’s covert mission had obviously take a turn for the worse, judging by the sirens.  
And the explosions.

  
Wolverine had always said to use someone else. Anyone but Deadpool.

  
He was lighting his third cigar when he heard an ‘Ahem’ from the shadows and Wade, torn suit and all, emerged from the darkness. “

  
“Those Things are gonna kill ya.”

  
“Sheesh, Wilson. Was this your idea of covert?”

  
“Sorry, man. No need to be Grim.” He dropped a shopping bag at Ben’s feet. “I got his costume. Just like you wanted.”

  
“Could have done without the noise, but yeah. It’ll be good to hang his costume in the new building. He would have wanted that.”

  
“Yeah,” muttered Wade. The tiredness seeping into his bones

  
“What’s that you got there?” Ben asked, pointing at the urn under his arm.

  
“Oh… I found…” He paused, letting silence bolster him. “Osborn was keeping his ashes as well. I just thought… I thought the ones who loved him best should have a chance to bury him.”  
Ben paused as the words sank in.

  
“I’m going to go now.”

  
“All right, Wade. You take care.”

  
“I will.”

  
[*WE* will.]

  
Ben scratched at his neck, hesitating. “You don’t want company?”

  
“No.” Wade’s voice was quiet. His mouth dry. “I’m going to bury Spider-man by myself, I think.”

  
And the two superheroes went their separate ways.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cthonical for the edits


End file.
